


Homecoming

by DelightfulExcess (SevereStorms)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anal Sex, Belly Kink, Body Positivity, Chubby!Carlos, Explicit Consent, Fluff and Smut, Food Kink, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Porn with a thin veneer of plot, Sex, Stuffing (a little), Weight Gain, gently kinky fluff, weight loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:39:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevereStorms/pseuds/DelightfulExcess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There were a lot of things Cecil loved about Carlos, more things than he could accurately count, but three things always topped the list of his favorite physical attributes: Carlos’s smile, his goddamn glorious hair, and his soft, cuddly belly. Two of those things were exactly as he remembered them when Carlos returned from the desert otherworld, but one had changed dramatically.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In other words, Carlos loses weight in the desert otherworld, but when he gets back to Night Vale, both he and Cecil discover reasons for him to find it again as quickly as possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

There were a lot of things Cecil loved about Carlos, more things than he could accurately count, but three things always topped the list of his favorite physical attributes: Carlos’s smile, his goddamn glorious hair, and his soft, cuddly belly. Two of those things were exactly as he remembered them when Carlos returned from the desert otherworld, but one had changed dramatically.

He had gotten a little carried away after Carlos’s haircut; he saw that now. It hadn’t been fair to cause the exile of Telly the Barber. That had definitely been an overreaction. Definitely. So Cecil made a conscious effort to hold his response in check when he took an unusually slender Carlos in his arms after the opening of the New Old Night Vale Opera House. 

He felt abysmally selfish for even noticing. Did it matter if Carlos had changed a little? Wouldn’t it be awful to be frozen in time for all eternity, never changing at all? How would he feel if Carlos objected to some minor change in his own physical appearance?

Besides, he was deliriously happy just to be holding Carlos in his arms again. Nothing else mattered; minor physical fluctuations were normal, and he wasn’t shallow. He might miss the familiar rounded shape of him– he knew he _would_ miss it – but this was Carlos, the love of his life, and he adored him, thick or thin, now and forever. 

And then there was the bothersome concern, the terrible _fear_ that lurked in the back of his mind, that if he raised some silly objection now, Carlos might be taken from him again, and he wasn’t sure he could stand being parted from him a second time. So he only hugged him tighter, and buried his face in his boyfriend’s silky, sweet-smelling hair. “I love you so much,” he whispered. “I love you _so_ much.”

~~~

That night, they lay together on the bed and talked until it stopped being late and started being early, until words were no longer enough to express what needed to be said. Cecil let his hands drift over Carlos’s body, still not quite believing he was really here after their long separation. 

Carlos smiled and moved a little closer, sliding one of his knees between Cecil’s legs, caressing his cheek and kissing him slowly, rubbing his hardening cock against Cecil’s hip. Cecil could feel it too, that slow-building burn of desire, but it was muted, not as sharp and immediate as it always had been in the past. Carlos kissed him, kissed his mouth and his cheek and his neck, touched him, began unfastening his clothes and pressing his lips to each newly exposed place, and whispered his name urgently as he began to tug at the waistband of his tights.

Cecil answered each kiss and touch and lick and nibble with fervent enthusiasm, but he couldn’t quite overcome the sense that his usually ecstatic libido wasn’t quite as responsive as usual. Everything Carlos was doing felt wonderful, and his love for him bubbled up in his chest, lifting his heart like a helium balloon...and _yet_...

He wondered why it hadn’t mattered when he’d visited Carlos, during his vacation. But thinking back, he realized that there’d been a little _more_ of Carlos, even then. He trailed his hand down Carlos’s chest and over his - _alas_ \- almost completely flat belly. There had still been a curve there last time they’d been together like this.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Carlos asked, as he squirmed closer, pushing his hips into Cecil’s and frowning slightly, glancing down at the place where their bodies were touching in confusion.  


“I- uh, yes, fine,” Cecil stammered uncomfortably. “I guess I just need a little more time than usual, I’ve been up all night.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No! No, definitely not. Just….keep doing that. Yeah, that feels...really good.” His hands roamed Carlos’s body, finding all kinds of loveliness, and no softness at all. It was heartbreaking.

 _Maybe this is only temporary,_ Cecil thought desperately. _A side effect of all the hard work he had to do in the desert otherworld._ He stroked his hand down Carlos’s torso again, not really feeling the way it was now, but rather the way it had been, his belly rounding out from his chest in a beautiful plump arc. And it had been soft, _so_ soft, the skin firm over the full curve of the ample flesh beneath, the warmth of it, the way it gave with a soft squish when their bodies were pressed together- 

“ _Oh,_ ” he gasped, as his body remembered, and hot blood rushed where it was wanted, at last. 

“ _There_ you are,” Carlos breathed, grinding against his rising erection. “Oh, _god_ , Cecil…”

In the darkness, Cecil closed his eyes and he imagined Carlos as he had been, the way his shirts had clung to the fullest part of his round belly; the way sometimes, after a particularly large meal, he would lean back in his chair and rest on hand on top of it, how it would settle over the waistband of his pants, swollen and sated. How much bigger it would look then, and how he would long to touch it, to feel how taut and full Carlos was…

Cecil moaned, and pulled Carlos into a passionate kiss.

“You had me worried there, for a minute,” Carlos whispered as they broke apart, breathing hard.

“Nothing to worry about,” Cecil murmured as he rolled on top of Carlos. “Nothing at all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carlos knew something was off, but for the life of him, he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. It was almost like Cecil was disappointed about something, but so far he hadn’t admitted any such feeling to Carlos. 

Stymied, Carlos made a mental note to pay closer attention to Cecil, to see if he could figure out what was bothering him. He got a hint a few nights later, when he decided to treat Cecil to dinner.

“Cecil? You home?” he called, as he entered the apartment balancing a stack of takeout boxes in one arm.

Cecil stepped into the kitchen, removing the leather apron he wore for woodworking. “I'm here," he said. "And that smells wonderful - what is it?”

“I’m not sure. He told me what everything was called but I’m not even going to try to pronounce any of it.” Carlos began opening containers, and that was when Cecil spotted the gleaming silver logo embossed on the top of each jet-black cardboard container. It depicted an arm, severed at the elbow, blood dripping from the stump, as a primitive tourniquet was twisted tight around one bicep.

“You went to Tourniquet?”

“I called to see if they had any cancellations. They didn’t have any tables open, but Earl insisted I bring something home. He said you’d probably really like this one,” Carlos said, pushing a carton in Cecil’s direction. Cecil appeared stunned. “Babe? You okay?”

“Sure,” Cecil said. “Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just...wow. Tourniquet. You really went all out, didn’t you?”

“Well, I know you’ve been wanting to go, and since we never seem to be able to get a table…” Carlos shrugged. 

Cecil colored slightly, covering his discomfiture by examining the contents of each container. “I just don’t understand why I always end up at the Applebee’s website,” he muttered, taking a seat across from Carlos. “Any chance he mentioned the possibility of reservations?”

“I didn’t ask,” Carlos said, around a mouthful of something that smelled of sage and looked like it might still be moving. He studied Cecil surreptitiously across the table, and was pleased to see Cecil looking at him in a way that made him feel very optimistic about the rest of their Friday night. In fact, as he brought another forkful of food to his lips, Cecil seemed to be holding his breath. Carlos ate the bite.

“That looks…. _good_ ,” Cecil said, biting his lower lip.

“It’s delicious,” Carlos said. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, no, you go right ahead, I’m okay over here,” Cecil said, swallowing hard as Carlos ate another bite, and then another. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

“Starved,” Carlos said. “It’s nice to be home. There was usually something to eat in the desert otherworld while the masked army was in town, but when they left...well, you saw. There wasn’t much we could do for food out there. I missed real food, even that godawful wheatless pizza at Rico’s. I swear sometimes I’d fantasize about eating an entire pizza by myself.”

“Hmm,” Cecil said dreamily, resting his chin on his hand and gazing across the table at his boyfriend. 

“Don’t you like the dinner Earl sent?” Carlos asked after another few mouthfuls, gesturing at Cecil’s dinner with his fork. Cecil glanced down at his box, which contained a variety of scented foams. 

“It’s fine,” Cecil said. “I guess I’m still just so happy to see you, is all. And this was so thoughtful of you, getting dinner. Is there some special occasion I’ve forgotten about?” he asked, hopefully. “Is it a science holiday?”

“A science holiday?” Carlos asked, bemused. “No, I just wanted to do something to let you know how much I appreciate you.”

“How sweet,” Cecil said. He ate a few bites of his dinner, but Carlos still couldn’t help but notice that he still seemed more interested in Carlos’s food. Or perhaps not the food - something about the way he was eating it? He immediately checked himself, wondering if maybe he was chewing too loudly again, but no; that wasn’t it. 

He carefully loaded his fork with a bite of creamy mashed potatoes and something that looked like, but was not, a stuffed mushroom. He watched Cecil’s face as he ate it, saw the flush blossom over his cheekbones as Carlos hummed his enjoyment and immediately followed with another bite. Then, to test the hypothesis, another. And another.

Cecil wasn’t interested in Carlos’s dinner; he was enjoying watching him eat it. He was enjoying it, Carlos realized, a _lot._

He decided to explore this discovery. “Earl is an amazing chef,” he said, as he finished the portion on his plate and helped himself to another. “I seriously can’t stop eating this.” And although he was already starting to feel full, he dug into his second helping with enthusiasm.

“Oh,” Cecil breathed, as if Carlos had just said something desperately erotic. Then, flustered, he sat up straighter and moved his own dinner briskly around his plate. “I mean, um, yeah. Yeah, this is...really delicious.”

How had he never _noticed_ this? Cecil's eyes following each bite from the plate to his lips, the way he was blushing and stammering, it was...

Well, it was outrageously hot, was what it was. 

_Interesting._

~~~

Carlos puzzled over Cecil’s behavior the following day, wondering what it meant and what, if anything, he should do about it. In the end, he decided to approach this the way he preferred to approach all questions: scientifically.

So far, he had a few observations: first, that Cecil seemed - he had to admit it to himself, even if it stung - less attracted to him than usual. He’d always taken Cecil’s abundant and obvious desire for him for granted; it had never occurred to him to think about where that attraction came from, until he had felt its absence the other night. It wasn’t that Cecil didn’t want him; at least, he didn’t think so. He just didn’t seem quite as keen as he usually did. He was usually the one who initiated physical intimacy, and he hadn’t done so once since Carlos had returned. 

Second: watching him eat dinner the other night had definitely sharpened Cecil’s sexual appetite.

Carlos ran a hand down the front of his shirt. He knew, of course, that he’d lost weight during the year he’d spent in the desert otherworld; he probably weighed less now than he had at any other point in his adult life. He’d expected Cecil to be pleased, if anything, by the transformation; Carlos knew that he was now closer to the social ideal of physical beauty than he had been when he was heavier.

But then...Cecil had said he was perfect the very first time he’d laid eyes on Carlos. Carlos hadn’t really taken that seriously; he had eyes, and there was no way he'd qualified as 'perfect' by any stretch of the imagination. Now, though, he saw that it was very possible Cecil had been just as sincere as he’d seemed. Maybe he really _had_ thought Carlos was perfect, just as he had been. 

Cecil hadn’t said anything about his weight loss. But would he? Probably not, Carlos reflected. He didn’t doubt that Cecil loved him; he knew that, could feel the truth of it every time Cecil so much as looked at him. And he was still attracted to Carlos; that was also true.

“But he used to find me _irresistible,_ ” Carlos murmured aloud, and he felt sure he’d just put his finger on it. That was what was missing; that feeling that he was driving Cecil _out of his mind_ with lust, seeing the moment when Cecil’s restraint broke and his want for Carlos spilled over, the way they were together at such times...well. It was very, _very_ good, and Carlos missed it. He wanted to make Cecil feel that way again, wanted Cecil to make _him_ feel that way again.

So then, he had a hypothesis: Cecil had liked his body the way it had been when they’d first met. He’d liked it a lot, apparently. 

Carlos supposed he’d just have to gain the weight back.

Without the constraints that life in the desert otherworld had imposed on his diet and exercise regimes, it was going to happen anyway; Carlos was sure of that. He’d long since come to peace with his body’s tendency to hold onto a little extra weight; if Cecil really preferred him that way, so much the better. It wouldn’t take long for him to bounce back to his pre-desert otherworld weight; the fact that he’d been half-starved for the last month or so just meant his body would be eager to hang onto every single calorie. He'd already put on a few pounds in the short time he'd been back.

And it wasn’t just the weight, he reminded himself; it had been clear that even just watching him eat had been a turn-on for Cecil. It would be easy, even _fun,_ to indulge this unexpected kink.

Although...in order to determine whether or not his approach was working, he’d have to stop initiating sex. His goal would be to get Cecil to make the first move, he decided.

As usual, devising a plan made Carlos feel better. He glanced at his phone and saw that it was almost lunchtime. He quickly thumbed a text to Cecil, _You free for lunch?_

He couldn’t wait to get started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cecil was nervous. First, Carlos had shown up with dinner; now, he was texting and inviting Cecil out to lunch. His mind whirled with the potential explanations for this uncharacteristic behavior, and none of them were good. It wasn't that Carlos wasn't thoughtful; it was just that his thoughtfulness didn't usually manifest in this particular way.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, as he and Carlos stood in line at Big Rico’s. 

Carlos squeezed his hand and smiled at him dazzlingly. “Everything’s great, Cecil. I can’t take my boyfriend out to lunch?”

“Yes, of course you can, it’s just that you usually never do,” Cecil said. “Are you _sure_ everything’s okay? You’re not about to leave town again or anything, are you? Oh my god, are you going back to the desert otherworld? Is that it?”

Carlos turned to face him and rested his hands on his shoulders. “Cecil,” he said levelly, looking into Cecil’s eyes. “I am fine. Everything is fine. I’m not going anywhere. I’m just. Taking you out. To lunch.”

Cecil looked into Carlos’s warm brown eyes and felt reassured. “Okay,” he said. Then, flicking his gaze over Carlos’s shoulder, he added, “It’s our turn.”

Cecil ordered the lunch special, and glanced over at Carlos, who was still studying the menu. “I’ll have a large with everything but hot peppers and anchovies,” Carlos said.

“Carlos, I’m getting the lunch special,” Cecil said, tugging on his sleeve and pointing at the menu.

“I know.”

“But then...I mean, I don’t want any pizza.”

“I know,” Carlos said again.

“Uh, do you know how large the large is?” the cashier asked, pointing to a large pizza box sitting on the counter.

“Yup,” Carlos said. “Everything but anchovies and hot peppers, please.”

Cecil blushed as he paid the cashier, and couldn’t quite meet Carlos’s eyes, even after they were snugged into a small booth in the back of the restaurant. Carlos selected the first slice of his pizza and folded it in half before taking a huge bite, closing his eyes and giving a little “mmph” of enjoyment.

Cecil felt faint. 

“This isn’t as bad as I remember,” Carlos said, around another bite of hot pizza. “Have they improved the crust recipe?”

“I, uh, I don’t know,” Cecil said, aware that he was staring raptly at Carlos’s mouth, but utterly unable to stop himself. He’d never known anyone who ate pizza like Carlos did, folding it in half that way, and he'd always found it cute. Now, it was way beyond cute; it was making his heart pound. “Are you...are you really g-going to eat that whole thing?” 

“Mmm-hmmm,” Carlos said, picking up another piece and starting in on it, but keeping his eyes fixed on Cecil. “I don’t know why, but...” he took another bite, sinking his teeth into the folded end, “I’m just _unbelievably_ hungry.”

Cecil heard his own breath hiss between his teeth, and quickly forced himself to look at his own plate, to eat some of his lunch and act normal, but he couldn’t help it, his eyes were ineluctably drawn to Carlos. By the time he got to the seventh slice, Cecil could tell that he was starting to feel uncomfortably full, but he just pressed a hand to his middle and soldiered on. He was wearing a t-shirt under his lab coat and Cecil's eyes kept drifting down to the place where the thin fabric had once stretched over an appealing swell. Was it just his imagination, or was Carlos's belly starting to push out over the waistband of his jeans? But then Carlos caught his eye and winked and Cecil blushed so hard he felt sure even his hair was turning red.

Fifteen minutes later, Carlos leaned back in his seat and groaned, rubbing one hand over his distended belly. “God, that was a lot of food,” he said, adjusting the waistband of his pants to ease the tightness. Then he glanced over at the menu display. “Do they still have ice cream here?” he asked, and Cecil barely managed to stifle a whimper. 

“I should get back to work,” he blurted, tidying up his dishes and putting them on the plastic tray, trying not to stare. “Has it been thirty minutes? Station Management-”

“Station Management isn’t going to care if you’re a few minutes late,” Carlos interrupted. “And I’m going to need a few minutes to let my digestive system get on top of things,” he added. “I don’t think I can even move, I’m so full.” He gave his belly a delicate pat and Cecil felt his cock throb.

“Oh! I can’t stay,” he said, standing and gathering up his jacket, holding it strategically in front of himself. “I have a, uh, meeting! A meeting, and I have to go right now. I’ll see you tonight. Thanks for lunch!” He practically ran out of the pizza parlor, so desperately turned on he feared he might come just from the slight friction of his clothing against his insanely sensitive hard-on.

“Steve Carlsberg, Steve Carlsberg, Steve Carlsberg,” he recited under his breath as he walked briskly back to the station. Mercifully, by the time he’d gotten back to his office, he’d managed to get himself under control, but for the whole rest of the afternoon, he was tormented by little flashes of memory, of Carlos devouring pizza with pleasure, leaning back and touching his belly as if it pained him a little, but still eating more.

He’d never gotten turned on this way before. He’d gotten aroused by the sight and feel of Carlos’s body, and he’d certainly hoped that his boyfriend might return to his pleasing former proportions, but this…it felt strange, unfamiliar, transgressive, and incredibly, _incredibly_ hot. But what if Carlos thought he was weird, or gross? He’d just gotten back, and Cecil was still feeling gun-shy, unsure of exactly where he stood in Carlos’s affections. What if he scared his mysterious, beautiful scientist away?

“Get a grip, Palmer,” he told himself, trying to focus on his work. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Carlos, not completely, for the whole rest of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carlos was sure he’d been right; Cecil’s reaction to watching him eat pizza had been undeniable. He knew Cecil, knew from the blush that stained the tops of his pretty cheekbones, the way his eyelids went heavy and his voice dropped an octave that he had been turned on, it had been fantastically obvious.

But he was baffled by Cecil’s abrupt departure. Why had he left so suddenly? Carlos just didn’t get it.

He returned to work with some difficulty, given how full he was - better to do this kind of thing in the evening from now on, he decided - and replayed the lunch date with Cecil in his mind, but it still didn’t make any sense to him. Since when had Cecil been shy about his attraction to Carlos?

Maybe this had been a little too much, too soon. And, after all, they _had_ been in a public place, it wasn’t like they could have done anything about it, short of running into the men’s room and...well, actually, that didn’t sound that bad, now that Carlos was thinking about it.

His own reaction had also been surprising. About midway through his pizza, he’d started to feel full, but he hadn’t wanted to stop. It was comforting, after his difficult, hungry year in the desert otherworld, to have too much to eat. It felt good, too, the tight fullness of his stomach, the heaviness of all that food inside him. And then, seeing how adorably flustered Cecil had gotten, that had been almost too much, so adorable and sexy Carlos was worried his plan might backfire on him. And maybe it had, he thought glumly.

He’d have liked to have Cecil come over and sit on his lap afterward, rub his overfull belly for him, maybe unfasten the button of his jeans. He’d have slid his hands up under Cecil’s shirt, and Cecil’s hands would move over his belly, then lower, down a little further, his thighs would tighten around Carlos’s, and then…

“Oh, god,” Carlos said, under his breath. He didn’t know how he was going to do this. He was as turned on as Cecil had been, but it seemed that Cecil wasn’t going to come around as easily as he’d hoped. He glanced down at his incipient belly, which was gurgling along happily enough, pushing out the fabric of his t-shirt. It was still a shadow of its former self, but he rubbed it encouragingly, thinking of the way Cecil had stared at it, how he'd blushed when Carlos had caught him.

He tried to focus on the research summary he’d been writing, but it was funny, he couldn’t remember what he’d been trying to say, couldn’t even remember where he’d left off. 

Funny.

~~~

Days passed, then weeks. Cecil made excuses to avoid sharing meals with Carlos, but otherwise behaved as though everything were fine. Well, sort of. Carlos had decided to stick to his plan, waiting for Cecil to make the first move, but his boyfriend was so jumpy whenever they were close together, it seemed unlikely that he’d be making any moves at all any time soon. 

Every time they were together, Carlos could feel Cecil’s attraction to him like a thickening of the air, especially if he happened to be eating something. 

Now, he ate out of nervousness about Cecil and their relationship. It seemed a full stomach was the only physical comfort he was going to experience, at least for now, and he indulged liberally. For the first week or so, it hadn’t been too obvious, but his growing belly was rapidly becoming impossible to hide. At the grocery store that morning, Old Woman Josie had said she was happier to see him looking healthier and had patted his belly affectionately as they stood in the checkout line together. He’d already had to let his belt out a few notches. His body seemed to remember his former round shape, and was bouncing back to form with surprising alacrity. His old clothes, which had hung on him a few weeks ago, were fitting much better, and he wasn’t entirely displeased to note that his belly was gradually returning to its former prominence. It had finally ceased being a mere accumulation of pudge, and stretched outward in a familiar heavy curve, making its presence felt. 

Carlos was sure Cecil had noticed, but he was still behaving so strangely it was impossible to know how to react.

Take this morning, for example. Carlos had gotten out of the shower and thrown on his bathrobe, noting with satisfaction the fact that he now had to tie the belt underneath his belly, the thick white fabric emphasizing the size of his gut, and headed to the closet to find something to wear. Cecil had breezed in seconds later, and had been surprised to find Carlos there. Carlos had turned, startled, and their eyes had met.

Cecil’s gaze had dipped down, to the place where Carlos’s resurgent belly rounded the terrycloth robe, and a pink glow had suffused his countenance. “Oh...I’m - I’m sorry, I’ll…” he’d said, but he hadn’t moved an inch, just stood there, drinking in the sight, expression softening, lips parting.

Carlos had stepped forward, taking Cecil’s hand. “It’s fine,” he’d said, and then, with no warning, Cecil was kissing him, hard, on the lips.

Suddenly they were clinched together in a passionate embrace, knocking clothes off their hangers and nearly tripping over the laundry basket. Carlos had moaned as Cecil’s hands had pushed inside the robe, cool against his shower-warmed skin, and then, just as abruptly as he’d begun, Cecil broke the kiss, stepping backward and stumbling over a shoe.

“Got to get to work,” he’d gasped, and he’d taken off before Carlos could stop him.

He’d heard the door slam, and after standing in the closet, panting with frustration for almost a full minute, he’d flopped back on the bed and taken matters into his own hands, imagining the continuation of the scene in the closet, Cecil’s cool hands warming as they caressed the heated skin of his belly, then sliding down his sides as Cecil dropped to his knees and took Carlos deep into his mouth, because _sweet fancy void_ he was so very, very good at that, and his mouth would be so hot and wet around Carlos’s cock, and he’d make those little sounds he always made as he stroked his velvet tongue thrillingly against Carlos’s skin, and Carlos would - he’d - he was going to - 

“ _Oh god,_ ” he gasped as he came in a wracking series of hard pulses, hips bucking helplessly as his orgasm washed through him, leaving him feeling wrung out and lonely in the silent bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mr. Palmer?”

“Hm?”

“Mr. Palmer?” 

“Mm.”

“Mr. Palmer!”

Cecil finally snapped out of his reverie and looked up at the intern standing in front of his desk. “Right, sorry,” he said, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Sorry.”

The intern eyed him warily and he handed over a handful of printed pages. “These are the notes for the Community Calendar,” he said, edging out of the studio as soon as Cecil accepted the stack of paper. 

“Thanks,” Cecil called after him, but he set the notes aside as soon as the intern was gone. “I can’t go on like this,” he muttered to himself, running his hands through his hair. “I _can’t._ ” 

Over the past few weeks, he’d managed to avoid any more scenes like the one at Big Rico’s, but he wasn’t going to be able to do it forever. Adding to his perpetual distraction was the fact that Carlos had started to regain the weight he’d lost, and looked so irresistibly appealing Cecil couldn’t think straight. His belly now formed a happy swell that begged to be touched, and the sight of it filling out so beautifully sent him into a near frenzy of sexual desire.

Just this week, for example, he’d come home to find Carlos polishing off the half pan of lasagna they’d had left over from the previous night, his belly so full and tight it was straining against the buttons of the shirt he’d been wearing. Carlos had stood up gingerly, cradling his full stomach with one hand, and had joined Cecil on the sofa to watch their mandated hour-and-a-half of reality television. It had been torture, watching Carlos rub his belly in wide circles, listening to the faint sounds it made as he digested the outrageous quantity of food he’d just consumed, and just when he'd thought it couldn't get any worse, Carlos had popped the button of his jeans, sighing as his full belly sank down into the extra space. He’d wanted to drop to his knees in front of him, to stroke and caress the lovely round shape of him with his hands and his mouth and never, never stop. 

He knew he had to talk to Carlos, but he’d been putting it off, hoping things would magically resolve on their own somehow. And of course, in the way of interpersonal relationships, they hadn’t. It was time for him to deal with whatever was happening; he was letting fear guide his actions and, as usual, it wasn’t taking him anywhere he wanted to go.

He picked up his phone and texted Carlos. 

_Dinner tonight?_

~~~

He’d made Carlos’s favorite, a deceptively simple chicken-macaroni casserole recipe he’d learned from Old Woman Josie years ago. The kitchen was warm and fragrant when Carlos finally got home, but Cecil was practically shaking, he was so nervous. 

His smile felt watery and uncertain as he served two helpings and sat down across from his boyfriend. They both paused, forks poised over plates of steaming food.

“My favorite,” Carlos said. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” Cecil said. “I just wanted to enjoy a quiet dinner at home with my boyfriend.” They ate in almost complete silence, only managing short bursts of conversation. Carlos finished eating and leaned back in his chair, and suddenly Cecil’s heart was beating so hard he couldn’t keep up any kind of semblance of normalcy. He dropped his fork with a clatter. 

Carlos looked up, and their eyes met, and held. A long moment dragged itself out across the dinner table.

“Cecil, I-”

“Carlos, could we-”

Uneasy laughter. 

Cecil blushed and smiled, eyes downcast. “I don’t really know what I was going to say,” he said. “I just...it’s just that lately, I’ve…” he shrugged, sighing. “Oh, this is so...I don’t even know _what_ it is.”

Carlos reached across the table and took Cecil’s hands in his. “All I need to know is, are we okay?”

Cecil blinked in surprise. “Of course, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know. Since I got back, you haven’t seemed quite as…” Carlos searched for a word that wasn’t loaded with all kinds of judgmental significance. “Amorous? As usual. At first I thought maybe you were having second thoughts about us, but then, the other night, when I brought dinner from Tourniquet, I thought maybe there was something else going on. And you’ve been avoiding me, or at least that’s what it feels like.”

“Avoiding you,” Cecil said, swallowing hard. “Yes, I guess I can see how it might look that way.”

“So then you _haven’t_ been avoiding me?”

“No. Well, yes, but not really.”

“Ah, I see. Thanks for clarifying,” Carlos said wryly. 

Cecil squeezed his hands and took a deep breath. “I’ve been avoiding putting myself in situations where I might have to watch you eat,” he said, hurriedly, as though he were afraid the words might escape him if he didn’t spit them all out quickly. “Because....well, because watching you eat, even thinking about it…”

“It turns you on,” Carlos said.

Cecil’s eyes widened. “You _knew_?”

“I suspected,” Carlos said. “I mean, you weren’t exactly subtle, Cecil. I thought I was going to give you your first touch-free orgasm at Big Rico’s a few weeks ago.”

Cecil gave a surprised laugh, started to cough, and took a sip of water. “You very nearly did,” he said, at last. “That’s why I decided I couldn’t be around you at mealtimes any more, it was so weird and uncontrollable. I don't - or rather I didn't - understand where it was coming from, and I...well, I freaked out a little bit.”

“So then, you understand it better now?”

“I think so. ”

“It was adorable. Also incredibly hot.”

Cecil froze. “You… _liked_ it?”

“Cecil, I love it. Why did you think I kept trying to get you to go out to lunch or come home early so we could have dinner together? Why do you think I've been working so hard to get this back?” He patted the side of his belly.

“Then you don’t _mind?_ ”

“Mind? Fuck, I’ve never been so turned on in my life.”

There was another long, silent pause, and then a crash as they both stood, and Cecil knocked his chair over in his haste to get to Carlos. 

They crashed into each other, knocking dishes off the table in their haste to press themselves as tightly together as possible.

“I can’t believe you _knew,_ all this time, and you didn’t mind. I should have said something, I felt so, so...oh, I don’t know, but I should have talked to you sooner.”

“No, sweetie, it wasn't just you,” Carlos said, stepping back, holding Cecil by the elbows. “I could tell you weren’t as into me when I got back. I was just trying to figure out why, and I kind of hit on it by accident. I should have just asked you; I’m sorry.”

“Carlos, I have _never_ been not into you,” Cecil said.

“Well, that first night I got back...it sure felt like you weren’t. Not like before, anyway.”

Cecil looked down at the floor, abashed. “It’s true I like you better like this,” he said quietly, sliding his hands around Carlos’s belly. “I…” his mouth went dry all of a sudden and his voice sounded hoarse. “God, I just _love_ this part of you, I always have. And when you got back, all I could think was that I want _more_ Carlos, not less. Never less.”

Carlos pulled Cecil close again, and his belly pressed into Cecil’s. Cecil almost couldn’t finish what he was trying to say, he was so wildly aroused by the simple, sweet feeling of all that softness, just for him.

“And then...when you were eating dinner that night, the night you went to Tourniquet…”

“Mm-hmm?” Carlos said, when Cecil seemed too distracted to remember that he’d been speaking.

“I - I started thinking about how you’d gain it all back,” Cecil whispered. “And it was...oh _god,_ Carlos, it was the single most erotic thing I’d ever contemplated in my whole life.” 

He kissed Carlos then, open-mouthed and hard, hands slipping around his head to hold him fast and close. He lost his head completely, could barely think anymore for wanting Carlos. “Fuck me,” he whispered into Carlos’s ear, “Please, Carlos, _please_ , I need you to fuck me right now, I think I might die if you don’t.” He shoved the flannel shirt off Carlos’s shoulders, then caressed the expanse of stretched-tight white cotton t-shirt that hugged and accentuated the thickest part of Carlos’s belly, the faint shadow of his belly button showing through the fabric. He made a sound like a hurt puppy.

Clothing littered the hallway as they moved toward the bedroom, stopping to kiss and lick and bite, Carlos half-carrying Cecil the last few feet because his knees were shaking too hard for him to walk. 

“This is the Cecil I remember,” Carlos breathed, as he slipped the last of Cecil’s clothes off and knelt down between his knees. He caressed Cecil’s cock with one hand, feeling how hard he was, how ready, and then propped one of Cecil’s legs on his shoulder as he leaned forward, taking him into his mouth even as he pressed one lubed finger inside. Cecil moaned, writhing on the bed, hands soft on Carlos’s hair as he worked him steadily open.

Cecil was gasping, almost completely incoherent, but he could hear Carlos’s breathing coming hard and fast as he finally leaned over, keeping Cecil’s leg hooked around his body, and slipped the button of his jeans. His belly shifted forward, rounding out so beautifully that Cecil was moaning before he's even started to press inside. There was a momentary discomfort, then - _finally_ that explosion of white-hot joy when Carlos’s cock touched home, sending thrills of pleasure ringing through Cecil’s every nerve. 

Cecil could feel the plump lower curve of Carlos’s belly pressing against him, and glanced down, pleased to note that Carlos hadn’t removed his t-shirt, the white fabric highlighting the shape of his belly hanging between their bodies. “So hot,” he moaned. “Oh my god, I can’t, I c-can’t stand it, _please_ -” and then Carlos was inside him again, thrusting steadily now, over and over, and he was crying out wordlessly for more, _more,_ more of this, more of Carlos, filling him up with so much pleasure he thought he’d die of it. 

“I think I’m going to-” Carlos gasped, and Cecil could feel how close he was from the slight hitch in the rhythm, the way he was slamming into him just a little harder. Carlos leaned down, letting his belly press against Cecil’s cock, and then it was mere seconds before they both came, hard, Carlos giving a shout as he felt the ripples of Cecil’s orgasm, Cecil nearly short-circuiting from the simultaneous pleasure of his own orgasm and the delirious pressure against his prostate. 

They lay together afterward, spent, breath slowing, the heat of their lovemaking dissipating. Cecil snuggled into Carlos’s embrace, stroking the once again ample curve of his belly appreciatively. It moved a little as Carlos huffed a slight laugh.

“I can’t believe I never noticed it before. Were you always so obvious and I was just clueless?”

“Maybe a little,” Cecil said, “But I don’t think I realized how much I liked it until you were gone, and then when you came back, so skinny, I just felt like...oh, I don’t know. So _lost._ Like somehow I hadn’t quite gotten all of you back. Am I a wretched pervert?”

“No,” Carlos said, smoothing his hair affectionately. “You’re an adorable pervert. The cutest pervert in Night Vale.”

“Stop,” Cecil said, but he was smiling as he snuggled back against Carlos’s chest. He was quiet for a little while, then, as he felt himself drifting close to the edge of sleep, he peeled back the hem of the white t-shirt and pressed a kiss to the soft skin just underneath Carlos’s belly button.

“Welcome home,” he whispered.


End file.
